


A Father's Love

by jb2001



Category: Black Veil Brides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 08:10:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4384025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jb2001/pseuds/jb2001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Trigger Warnings:<br/>Self harm<br/>Depression<br/>Bulimia<br/>Anorexia<br/>Strong language</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Father's Love

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings:  
> Self harm  
> Depression  
> Bulimia  
> Anorexia  
> Strong language

*Y/N's POV*

It had been less than five hours before I emptied out my school bag and snatched up another blade. This one was new, extra sharp. I walked back quietly to my bed, sat in the middle of it, and crossed my legs. 

Since losing my mum, cutting had become an addiction for me. It was something nobody knew about, something I had always kept to myself. The feeling of something causing pain was the best feeling in the world. Every time I cut myself, there was a small feeling of release, and it felt so good.

I pressed the corner of the metal against my arm and dragged it along my skin, slowly breaking through my flesh. Then another, and another, and another. I continued until I had ten, perfectly straight lines rising above my hand. I grabbed a tissue from my bedside table, wiped the crimson blood from the blade, then picked up another tissue and pressed down hard on my wounds. Staying perfectly still, the tissue clamped between my bloodied arm and slightly shaky hand, I waited a few minutes before peeling the tissue away.

When I had wiped the excess of blood away, I dug through my underwear draw and retrieved a little black lighter. Walking to the other side of my room, I sparked the lighter and let it hover beneath the soggy tissue. It began to burn quickly and I dropped it into the bin. When it had burned enough so no blood was visible, I flapped out the small flames with one of my books, and piled some junk over the top of the ashes.

I done this a lot, just in case dad found it. He had no idea I had been cutting. It was different if he found a burned bit of tissue, because he often caught me sneaking a cigarette, so he wouldn't be shocked by that. 

I picked the razor back up, shoved it back in my bag and pushed the bag back under my bed. 

"Y/N, the guys are here!" My dad called from the bottom of the stairs.

Making sure everything was back in place, I slipped out of my room and trotted down the stairs. Jake, Ashley, CC and Jinxx were sat around the fire in the front room. "Hey guys." I said, and plonked down next to CC.

"Alright kiddo?" CC asked, nudging me with his elbow.

"Good." I nodded, as dad walked into the room. 

"I'm ordering pizza, what do you guys want?" Dad asked, phone in hand.

The guys gave in their orders and then turned to me. "Just cheese please." I said, pulling my knees up to my chest.

As dad ordered the food, Jinxx turned on the TV. I can't remember what it was, my mind was on other things. When dad came back in, he started talking with the guys about the world tour, starting the next month. I stared at a point outside of the window, probably a cloud or something. 

The pizza arrived soon after and we piled in around the table. As we dug in, Ashley turned to me. "How's school going?" He asked, his mouth full of pizza.

I swallowed my small slice of pizza reluctantly and looked back up at him. "It's, uh, it's good." I lied. 

"You got a boyfriend yet?" Jake grinned.

I began to feel uncomfortable. Something else that they didn't know was that I'd never been interested in boys, and that I was actually mad for a chick in my class. "Um, no, I've been too busy for all of that." I said, forcing a smile.

Dad widened his eyes at the guys. "She's fourteen, don't encourage her." He said, closing his empty pizza box.

The guys just laughed, I sat there awkwardly. Extremely reluctantly and beginning to feel sick, I finished my pizza and shoved the empty box to the middle of the table. "Will you be ok? We'll be in the studio if you want us." Dad said, and planted a kiss on my forehead before snatching up the empty boxes and taking them out to the trash.

The guys waved lightly and followed dad into the studio. That was their equivalent of garage practise. 

I went back upstairs, and making sure the guys were busying themselves in the studio, I shut myself in the bathroom and kneeled down by the toilet. I lifted up the lid, held back my hair and hunched over the bowl, before forcing my fingers to the back of my throat. I gagged and coughed and choked before I bought up the pizza. It smelt putrid and there were still traces of chunky bits of cheese in with the substance. I continued to purge until I had bought everything up, got to my feet and flushed the chain, running my hand over my stomach.

I walked over to the sink, grabbed the sides of the bowl, and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My lipgloss had smudged up to my cheeks, my mascara had run down to my chin with my tears and my cheeks shone bright red. "You're a fucking mess." I whispered, holding back the tears of utter regret. "You're a stupid, fat, ugly, worthless fucking mess."

I dropped down to my knees, raked around in the cupboard under the small sink, searching aimlessly for the pipes. A few months ago, I had lodged a Stanley knife between a small set of pipes, and it was something I used when things got really tough. When I had managed to dislodge the knife, I wrenched it from between the pipes, and pulled myself up on the toilet lid. 

I pressed down on the small button and pushed it along until the blade appeared at the top. When it was fully out, I rolled up one of my sleeves, tore off my bangles, and pressed the edge of the blade to my arm, slightly below where I had continued to cut myself earlier on. I started with a small scratch that barely bled, and then quickly it had escalated to a deep cut I knew would scar. It continued to bleed rapidly, but I didn't stop. The stinging didn't bother me, I just continued to etch cuts deep into my skin, until the small beads of crimson red had built up and rolled down the sides of my arm.

Making my heart jolt, the door in front of me was being pushed open, and Jake stumbled in, looking down absently at his feet. I stared at him for a millisecond before he realised I was there. "Oh, sorry-" His eyes had reached my rapidly bleeding arms and the never ending scars etched onto my flesh. "Y/N...? Wh- What did-" 

He cut himself off and just stared at the blood dripping silently to the marble floor. "Jake, please-" I swallowed hard, shuffling uncomfortably. "Don't tell dad, please."

Jake just stood there, his mouth open, hands still by his side. "Y/N, what have you-" He cut himself off yet again.

"Don't tell anyone, please, Jake, please, I beg-" I stopped myself with tears that just came flooding, and Jake held up his hands after closing the door and leaned on the floor in front of me.

"No, no, it's ok, don't cry. Come on, we'll get you cleaned up. It's going to be ok." Jake whispered, and ran a bundle of toilet roll under the cold tap. "Shh, shh, it's ok, I promise, I can fix it, ok, shh."

He sat forward on his knees and took my arm gently. "Does it hurt?" He asked quietly.

I nodded, tears still rolling down my burning hot cheeks. Jake pressed the cold, wet tissue to the bleeding cuts and held it down with some pressure. "Hey, listen, it's ok. I've done some first aid, I can stitch it up-" He said, then looked up at me with a small, slightly worried smile. "I can stitch these wounds." 

I swallowed hard as he instructed me to keep pressure on the tissue whilst he hunted around for a first aid kit.

He found a needle and some special thread in the back of the cupboard and rushed back over to me. "Here, run it under the cold water." He pulled me forward, his hands on my arm ever so gently, and rinsed the drying blood under the cold water. It stung like a bitch, but I tried my hardest to stay as still as possible.

He bent back down in front of me and slowly began stitching up each cut with gentle hands. Surprisingly for Jake, the stitching was neat and he used a small wet cloth to wipe away the dried excess of blood. "Here." He whispered, and began wrapping a clean bandage around and up my arm. He secured it with some micropore tape and emptied the bloody tissues into the bin next to the bath. He bent down in front of me and took my hands. "It's okay, it's going to be okay." He whispered, and pulled me onto the floor so he could envelope me in his arms.

I cried silently into his chest, his arms wrapped around my small, delicate body. He edged a hand around my back and held me firmly. Suddenly, he slipped his hand away and pushed me back. "Y/N, you're-" He swallowed hard, examining me with his eyes. "You've got- you're so skinny. What- what's happening? Your bones, they're-"

I looked at him, tears flooding my eyes. "Jake, you can't tell dad." I said, trying to stay calm. "He can't know, he'll worry."

"Y/N, Andy has to know what you're doing to yourself!" Jake hissed, grabbing my arms to stop me moving. "You need help, you're killing yourself!"

"Stop!" I said, swallowing back tears. "Just stop, please, Jake, I'll stop, I'll get fucking help, just don't tell him, please!"

Jake fell silent, his hands still gripping my arms like a vice. Then he let go. He rested his hands at his side. "Okay." He whispered.

"Jake, thank you!" I whispered, and wrapped his arms around him to hug him. "Thank you so much."

***

*Jake's POV*

My fingers were crossed when she forced me to promise. 

When I had settled her down and took her back to her bedroom, I closed the door behind me and trotted down the stairs. I went back to the studio and picked up my guitar. "What took you so long?" Ashley asked.

"I think that pizza was dodgy." I lied.

I looked over to Andy. He was talking with CC and Jinxx, a smile spread across his face, he looked happy. I couldn't tell him, put his happiness in jeopardy, but yet again, I couldn't let his daughter suffer alone. She could end up killing herself. She was just bones, her flesh had been destroyed with blades and Stanley knives and she had purged away the meat in her body. I couldn't let her continue on like this, it wouldn't be sensible.

"Let's get started." Andy said, and went to stand in front of the mic.

CC sat himself behind the drum kit, and after counting aloud to four, he began drumming. Ash started on bass, but I held up my hands and called out, "Stop!"

The guys stopped, just the faint echoes bouncing off the walls, and turned to me. "Why? What's up?" Andy asked, stepping back from the mic as everyone looked around at me. 

"I don't know-" I stuttered. "Andy, man, I don't know how to tell you this..."

"Jake, what is it?" He asked, looking concerned now.

"It's-" I rubbed my face hesitantly. "It's Y/N, it's about Y/N."

"Y/N? What about Y/N?" Andy asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Oh shit." I sighed, pulling off my guitar strap and placing it against the wall. "Shit, Andy, man, you should sit down-"

"No, I don't wanna sit down, I want you to tell me what's going on." Andy said firmly, edging forwards towards me.

"Fuck!" I struggled. "I don't know how to say it. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Jake, I swear to god, if you don't-"

"Y/N, she's sick. She needs help Andy." I said, looking him directly in the eyes.

"What?" Andy said, one eyebrow raised in confusion. "What are you on about?"

"The reason I took so long was because I was helping her clean up." I said, looking down at my hands.

"Clean up? Clean up what?" Andy asked.

"Andy, I walked in on her cutting herself with a Stanley knife." I said, looking over at him nervously.

Andy stayed silent for a while, staring at a particular point on the floor. "What?" He whispered eventually, looking up to meet my stare.

"She's been self harming, for a while now, I think." I said, running my hand shakily across the back of my neck. "She's got loads. Cuts and scars all up her arms."

Andy just stared at me, barely blinking, swallowing harshly. "D-Did you all know about this?" He asked, looking around at us all.

"No, they didn't. I only just found out myself." I said quickly. "Andy, I don't know whether you've been distracted-"

"Don't you fucking dare say I've been too busy to notice!" He said, pointing his long finger angrily at me. "Don't you fucking dare!"

"I'm not!" I said, holding up my hands in surrender. "She's skinny, Andy. Like I mean really skinny. There's no meat on her, she's just a skeleton. I'm not saying this meaning you're a bad dad, but I don't know the last time you really looked into her eyes. Because I did, and she's dead inside Andy. She's empty."

Andy looked away, and when he looked back, his eyes were filled with tears. "She begged me not to tell you. I was going to obviously, but I just thought if I didn't, she might have killed herself..." I explained, my throat tightening. "She needs serious help."

Andy stood there, and before long, he turned around and kicked the mic stand against the wall, his fists clenched. "I should have fucking known!" He shouted. "I should have fucking seen it! I'm her dad, I'm supposed to see these types of fucking things!"

His fist collided with the wall, before he walked over to the speakers and kicked them across the floor. "WHAT TYPE OF FUCKING AWFUL FATHER AM I?!" He screamed, before turning around and taking a deep breath. "I need to see her!"

"Wait, you can't go in there all guns blazing, you need to calm down." Jinxx said lightly, stepping in front of Andy.

"She is my fucking daughter, you don't get to tell me when I can see her and when I fucking can't!" He yelled, his face turning bright red now.

"Andy, stop it, you'll just make things worse!" I shouted over him, and grabbed his arm. No matter how hard I tried, he pulled away from me and ran for the stairs.

***

*Y/N's POV*

I lay on my side, examining the bandages on my arms. I trusted Jake, I knew he wouldn't go against me. He was like a second dad, the same as all of the guys.

It was only when I heard shouting in the hallway downstairs that my trust in Jake faded a little. "Andy, calm down!" Jake yelled, I heard the thumping of several feet mounting up the stairs.

I shot up, pulled my knees to my chin and waited, my hands shaking a little. Jake had told him. He promised me, and he had told him.

The knob twisted and the door was flung open, thumping against the side of my wardrobe. "Where are they?!" Andy yelled.

"Where are what?!" I asked shakily.

"The fucking blades, WHERE ARE THE FUCKING BLADES?!" Dad screamed, jolting towards me. "WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO IT?! AFTER EVERYTHING I MAKE MUSIC ABOUT, AFTER ALL OF THOSE FANS THAT I HAVE HELPED AND NOW I CANT EVEN HELP MY OWN FUCKING DAUGHTER! TELL ME WHERE THE FUCKING BLADES ARE RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!"

"Andy, stop it!" Ashley said, running forward to grab dad's arm, CC grabbing the other.

"YOU THINK DESTROYING YOUR OWN FUCKING SKIN IS GOING TO FUCKING HELP ANYTHING?! IT DOESN'T AND IT NEVER FUCKING WILL!" He screamed, trying to escape the guys grip.

I dived off of the bed, darting towards the en suite. Dad managed to shake them off, but I had slammed the door and bolted it before he could reach me. "OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR!!!"

"Andy, stop!" CC begged from the other side of the door.

"Y/N, please, come out, it will be okay!" Jinxx called.

"Listen to us, stay calm! This won't solve anything!" Ashley to dad.

"Y/N, are you okay?!" Jake.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!!!" I screamed, my throat becoming raw, as I dived down by the toilet and pulled my knees up to my chin. "LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"

I bolted over to the sink, found one of dad's razors and tore it apart. I took one from the top row, catching my fingers on it in the process, and ripped off the bandages. As the door began to pound and thumping came from the other side, I pulled the razor across the inside of my arm, again and again and again. "GO AWAY!!!" I shrieked, pressing the blade deeper into my pale skin. "GO AWAAAAAAAY!!!"

The thumping stopped, but I never stopped cutting. Even after the door had been busted open, hitting the wall next to it, I didn't stop. It was only when I looked up to see dad and the guys standing in the doorway that I dropped the bloody blade to the floor and tears slipped down my cheeks. "Dad!" I cried.

He walked slowly and cautiously towards me, and when he reached me, he kicked aside the blade and dropped down beside me. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby." He whispered, and pulled me into his arms like I was a child again. I sobbed into his chest as he stroked my hair gently. "It's okay, it's okay."

He rocked me lightly, my legs curled up to my chest, my arms wrapped around his back as I cried. He was being gentle, aware of the bones that protruded from under my flesh. My hands shook behind him so I gripped his t-shirt in my fists and rested my head on his shoulder. "It's okay baby, we're gonna get you help, we're gonna get you help." Dad whispered soothingly, planting a kiss lightly on the top of my head.

He slipped back onto his bum, me at his side, still sobbing into him. I swallowed hard and pulled away gently. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and looked down at my lap. "I shouldn't have reacted like that." Dad said, looking at me carefully. "It came as a shock. I thought... I thought you would have told me."

"I couldn't. I couldn't tell you that. You have fans that have struggled with this shit, you didn't deserve to have a daughter that was the same." I said, swallowing back more tears. I took a deep yet shakily breath.

"Admitting that you're struggling is nothing to be ashamed of. Neither is self harm, or depression, or eating disorders. Even if it wasn't me, you should have told someone. Someone at school, one of the guys." Dad said, glancing over at the guys hanging awkwardly in the doorway. "Anyone. But you should have told someone."

I nodded. "How long?" Ashley asked.

I looked up at their expectant faces. "Since last year. It started off with just a scratch with a paper clip, and then-" I swallowed hard. "Then I looked at how much of a mess I was. There's someone at school, and I just wanted to look good, so I binged, then I made myself sick. It just kept happening after that, and then came the blades."

"This is because of mom, isn't it?" Dad said sadly.

"It was my fault." I said. "I was distracting her when she crashed the car. I deserved every cut, all of that fucking blood!"

Dad shook his head crossly. "No, don't you do that. Don't you blame yourself. The other driver had been drinking, you know that."

"And maybe mom might have been able to swerve if I wasn't pestering her." I said, trying desperately to hold back more tears.

Dad shook his head again but didn't say anything, instead her took my hand and squeezed it tightly. "I was never going to be pretty enough for anyone, not perfect enough. I thought if I looked better, people might be able to get past the fact I killed her."

I had an instinct to stand, and with dad's help as he bolted up, he kept me steady until I got my balance back. I stepped away, took a deep breath, and turned around. I could see them staring at me in the wall mirror in front of me. I grabbed the hem of my shirt and slowly pulled it above my ribs. They took a little while to examine me, dad looked away first, squeezing his eyes closed. I turned around slowly, and showed them the front. Visible ribs, sharply shaped hip bones and a visible pelvis, amongst deep cuts and scars etched into my pale flesh. When they had all looked, I dropped my shirt, and rolled up the bottom of my leggings and the sleeves of my top. More scars, all different sizes, all different places, however not one blank space.

"I should have seen it sooner. I didn't pay you much attention, and I regret it more than anything." Dad said tearfully, and pulled me into his arms again. "I'm gonna help you baby, I promise."

"I'm just a fucked up emo kid, why would anyone want to help me?" I said, chewing harshly on my fingernails.

"You're not any fucked up emo kid, you're my fucked up emo kid." Dad said, flashing a smile at me. "Let's face it, you're our fucked up emo kid."

I looked around at the guys, they were smiling encouragingly. "Come on, let's get these cuts sorted." Dad said gently, and grabbed a baby wipe from under the sink.

He wiped around the wounds gently then dabbed at the cuts. It stung, but it didn't hurt. CC bent down next to me and helped dad secure a clean bandage up and around my arm. He smiled easily at me as he got to his feet.

Dad bent forward on one knee again, took my face ever so gently in his hands, and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. "It's all going to be okay." He whispered, caressing my cheek thoughtfully.


End file.
